


I Will Wait

by tiger_in_the_flightdeck



Series: Tiger's Tumblr Ficlets [10]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Depression, Dream States, M/M, Morphine Dreams, Post Reichenbach, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicidal!John, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-22
Updated: 2013-02-22
Packaged: 2017-12-03 04:51:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/694368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiger_in_the_flightdeck/pseuds/tiger_in_the_flightdeck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John knew why he did it. Yes, he had been careful to make it look like an accident. Mrs Hudson needed the life insurance after he was gone, after all. But, he knew exactly what he was doing when he stepped off the pavement that morning.</p>
<p>He just wanted to be with Sherlock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Will Wait

John knew why he did it. Yes, he had been careful to make it look like an accident. Mrs Hudson needed the life insurance after he was gone, after all. But, he knew exactly what he was doing when he stepped off the pavement that morning.

He just wanted to be with Sherlock.

Pathetic, really, the things that go through your head at a time like that. The smell of black coffee. A long held note from a concerto. Hair so dark red it was almost black. Eyes that were never the same colour. Laughter, yelling, gunshots. Home.

The cab -of  _course_ it had been a cab- had tried to stop, and for a brief moment, John had shared a look with the driver.  _Thank you._

Then, as usual, some quick thinking bastard went and saved his life.

There were pins in his left arm, his tibia had been fractured, and four ribs snapped clean. The doctors had managed the stitch his scalp back together, but he would have a jagged line through his hair for the rest of his life.

Which would only be until he got out of this place. He was done playing games. He’d apologise to his landlady for leaving her like this, but when he was released, he knew what he was going to do. It would be quick. Alone in the flat, sitting in the chair Sherlock had given him. His last thoughts would be about the man that was missing from the chair opposite. His last sensation, the cold tang of metal between his lips and on his tongue.

A bullet had brought him into Sherlock’s life. Only fitting that one bring them back together. He just needed to recover enough to get home. He’d leave his note. A proper one, not a final phone call to someone to say-

“You’re an idiot.”

“Go away, Sherlock.” John sighed softly, and hit the button that gave him another shot of morphine. Rolling his head on his pillow, he reached out for his friend. “I’m sorry. You know I don’t mean that. I miss you. I wish I was with you.”

Sherlock drew the curtain aside, and took up John’s hand. “You’re with me now.” He sat on the edge of the bed, linking their fingers together. “I’ll stay with you, for a while.”

“People keep saving me. I’m just trying to get to you, Sherlock. Molly…” he laughed, and pulled the ghost close enough to press his nose to his shoulder. The drugs were amazing. He could smell the man’s skin.

“She keeps waylaying me, whenever I’m at Bart’s. Won’t even let me get past the second floor. I just want to be with you, again.” Tears ran from the corners of his eyes. The salt stung his still open wounds.

  


“If you kill yourself, we won’t be together, John.” Sherlock chided gently. He shifted. The bed creaked. “We’ll be kept apart. You have to go on living, John. Promise me.” The detective lifted the hand to his lips. “Please, promise me. I miss you too. I want nothing more than to be back at home. To have you smile at me, and tell me I’m amazing.”

With a small tug, John pulled Sherlock down to the bed. He worked his fingers free, and ran them over Sherlock’s hair. “You always look different. Each time I see you. You’re hair is shorter this time. I’m forgetting what you look like, aren’t I?” Fresh tears ran loose down past his temples and into his hair. “I don’t want to forget you. I love you, Sherlock. I should have told you before.”

“I… John, I love you as well. Of course I do. How could I not?” Carefully, Sherlock brushed the tears away, and pressed a small kiss to John’s lips. “We’ll be together soon. But you have to stop this. Swear it, or they’ll keep me from coming back to you.”

“I swear, Sherlock. It’s just so… Without you, it’s all so… pointless. How much longer do I have to wait? Do you know?”

Sherlock glanced over his shoulder at the door. “Maybe not very long. A year. Maybe less.”

John sank back onto his pillow with a sigh. “You know something I don’t. Thank you. I can wait.”

“John… I have to go. I’ve been here too long as it is. We’ll see each other again soon, I promise you.” He brought their lips together in another hard kiss. “Goodbye.”

“Will you wait for me?”

“Of course I will, John. Always.”

Moments after Sherlock vanished, John heard Mrs Hudson toddle up. “Who are you talking to, love?”

She fussed, and wept quietly, and pleaded with John to never do something so stupid again. John nodded, hugged her close with his good arm, and licked his lips.

He tasted cigarettes.

*

“You were supposed to look after him.” A dark voiced rumbled from the shadows.

Drawing herself up to her full height, the old woman clutched her handbag to her chest. “You were supposed to be home by now. How much longer are you going to put him through this? We almost lost him today.”

“Soon. I’m almost finished. Just keep him safe a little bit longer for me.”

“He’ll never forgive you for this.”

“I don’t expect him to.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'd love to hear what you think!


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